


it's too late now

by achilles (antilochus)



Series: their memories (harry potter fics) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Draco is Sad, Drarry, Flashback, M/M, Memories, Non-Canon Relationship, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining, harry is kinda dumb, they're both pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24644812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antilochus/pseuds/achilles
Summary: Draco looks back at the past and regrets. There is a lot he wishes he had done differently, but it's too late now.It's just too late..
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: their memories (harry potter fics) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781836
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	it's too late now

It's too late now to do anything. It's always been too late for us. 

**1st Year**

I knew who he was from the moment I saw him. _Harry Potter._ God. The annoying, insufferable, ridiculous Harry Potter. 

Everyone wanted to be him, everyone envied him, everyone wanted to be close to him. Even I did. I even offered him my friendship! He rejected it and I was furious. 

I hated him. He was better than me, always. I wanted to make my father proud, but that Potter always made me feel worthless. He joined the quidditch team and I was made a fool of. He saved Hogwarts and I sulked over it. He had true friends while I simply had cronies. 

I didn't understand that concept. The concept of friendship. It was all so strange to me. The mutual respect, the helping, not owing any favours. 

They didn't care about social status. I was taught to live by the rigid laws of hierarchy. 

Now, I look back at my 'friendships' and I know they were not friendships at all.

**4th Year**

This was the year my jealousy turned out to be something greater, something deeper. 

I was sure he had cheated. He’d put his name in that goblet, somehow. It made me angry that he’d been able to do it, but I also admired him for it. 

I’d chased him all my life. I wanted to be as good as him. But perhaps it was because I wanted to be good enough **for** him. I would never have admitted it back then. Just like I couldn’t admit that I was happy he’d survived. I wished him dead, that’s what I told myself.

**7th Year**

I never changed. I didn’t switch sides. I didn’t defend Hogwarts against the Dark Lord. No, I didn't do the right thing. I wasn’t brave enough. I’ve regretted this every single moment of my life. I never wanted to take his hand, never wanted to join them. It was just too hard to say no. I couldn’t say no. I thought I’d die. So many others had been brutally murdered simply for rejecting his offer for power. I couldn’t say no. I daren’t say no.

**Present day**

And here I am, alone, in my office. My desk is a mess. There are papers piled up on every inch of it, and even more lay on the floor. I’ve been crying. My eyes are red, my nose is still runny, I can feel my hands trembling. I want to keep on yelling, throwing things, punching things. I know it’s useless though.

Nothing will bring him back.

No, Harry Potter is dead. 

He died a stupid death, which is not too surprising for him. I arrived at the crime scene just after. He was rescuing a kid from a madman. Said madman was about to kill the kid, and _that Potter_ didn’t even think of using magic. He rushed in, blocking the spell. **_He could’ve used magic._ ** He could’ve saved himself and the kid. I wish... **_I wish Harry had let the kid die._ ** I just wanted him to live. I wanted him to live so we’d be able to spend more time together. It’s selfish, but I wanted him all to myself, just a bit longer.

If only I had arrived sooner… I was too late to do anything! I stunned the man and rushed to Harry. I couldn’t bear it, seeing him like that. He was down. I checked his pulse, I shook him, I tried to revive him. Nothing worked. He was dead. Just like that. 

I try to clear my thoughts. I rush to the bathroom and splash myself with cold water. When I look into the mirror I see myself when I was younger.. A boy, a scared boy who doesn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. Harry was my path, my light. Harry has always been my beacon of hope. I don’t know where my place is, without him. 

I remember the day I finally confessed. I never imagined it would happen. I’d always assumed my love was unrequited. It was easier that way, less complicated. He and Ginny were a perfect match. Me, on the other hand, well, I didn’t date. I always made the same excuse ‘I’m not interested’, and it was enough for most people, but not for Harry. We’d become coworkers and friends after our bumpy years at Hogwarts. We got along well, hung out sometimes (never alone), talked during our breaks… He kept insisting on knowing why I didn’t date, he’d even annoy me about it every day. I just burst out one day. I told him everything. I said I loved him. I’d loved him for so long. I think he was just shocked. He didn’t talk to me for a day, but the next he told me he was single. That was when our attempts at flirting began. I have to say though, those were the most embarrassing days of my life. 

We started dating some weeks later. I remember the date, April 15th. I was the happiest I’d ever been. Harry always had the most absurd ideas for dates, while I stuck with the traditional ones. We even had a picnic on brooms once! That date didn’t turn out very well, but it was fun. All the time I spent with Harry was fun. Every moment was thrilling, exciting. I simply couldn’t get enough of him. He was the brightness in my gloomy days, he was my everything.

I feel like we tried to have it all. All the moments we missed because we were stupid and young, we tried to make up for now. Well, then… I wanted to do everything with him. The first hand hold we missed, the first kiss, the first hug, the first everything! Those days, those seven damn days, were the best of my life.

I’m crying again. I try to wipe away the tears, but more take their place. I slump down into my chair and stare at a photo. It’s a moving photo of us, taken a few hours before his death. He was smiling, showing that beautiful smile of his, his eyes shining. His hand was wrapped around my waist and he had pulled me close to him just as the photographer pressed the shutter. My face was one of surprise and happiness. I was flushed, and so was he. We looked so joyful, so happy together. 

I can’t believe he’s dead. I can’t take it. I don’t want to go on without him. I just want to see his smile, his messy hair, his eyes. Those eyes that would always remind him of his mother. I wonder if he’s with them now. Probably, he’s probably fine. There is a wizard Heaven, or so he told me once. He’s surely up there, surrounded by all his friends and family.

I wish I’d done things sooner, taken action sooner, confessed sooner.

It’s too late now to do anything. It’s always been too late for us.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave any comments or kudos or whatever!  
> criticism is greatly appreciated


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